


Don't touch

by SpicyCheese



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Depression, Drug Use, F/F, General NOT fluffiness- sorry, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 02:01:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1880874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicyCheese/pseuds/SpicyCheese
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That's what she did- she kept busy and she kept her mouth shut. She made her life’s purpose into keeping everything around her running. She made her life not her own, and it felt much safer that way- to distance herself from the chaos inside.</p><p>That is, until Beth.</p><p>Spoilers for everything up through 2x10.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't touch

 

*_*_*_*_*

 

 

They dance. All of them.

First Cosima, then Sarah. When it's her turn, she doesn't refuse Felix's invitation, and soon all of them are up and moving. All around her, her sisters- her family- are dancing. They relax and move to the music, giving into it in their own ways.

Alison dances, though a bit more reserved than she might have in the past. But then, everything is a bit more reserved that it was in the past.

After they finish and the laughter subsides, and Cosima catches her breath- smiling through the coughing even- Alison slips to the entryway, bidding her farewells with one foot already out the door.

She doesn't stay the night. As much as she wants to stay with them, to be with her family, to feel that belonging, she knows she can't. She can't let herself. Not again.

It's safer to be alone. She learned that after Beth.

 _Beth_.

To even think that name, in her own head, even now as she drives home, is dangerous.

Before Beth, Alison had no one. Sure, she had lumpy, dumpy Donnie. Useless, farting, _monitoring_ , Donnie. She had her children too, of course, but they were hardly someone she could talk to. Not like that. Not the way she needs.

It had always been this way. She learned early on as a child that no one wanted to hear what she had to say- to really listen to her thoughts and ideas. No one put her good test scores on the fridge. No one came to her school plays. She didn't expect them to so she did these things for herself. It was all to keep herself busy. To keep the darkness out. She knew no one else cared.

Alison never shared herself with anyone. Not her true self- not her thoughts, or her fears. She could imagine the look on Ainsley’s face if she ever talked about some of the wild thoughts that raced through her mind, moment to moment. Donnie would probably commit her if she ever spoke about those feelings she had sometimes- deep and dark- the ones the nipped at her heals as she sped through her day. If she kept moving, and kept busy, those thoughts couldn't catch her.

So that's what she did- she kept busy and she kept her mouth shut. She made her life’s purpose into keeping everything around her running. She made her life not her own, and it felt much safer that way- to distance herself from the chaos inside.

That is, until Beth.

Beth was like her. More than their eyes, and faces, Beth was, really, just like her. Beth was a mess too, and she did what Alison did- she worked hard to keep her little world around her together. Everyday, she did what she had to, to keep things together, even if it left her own thoughts and feelings to fall by the wayside. It’s what she did. It’s what _they_ did.

Beth told her about her genetic identicals (not the c word, never the c word, Beth respected that). And even after seeing their pictures, and meeting Cosima, and speaking to the German on the phone (just that once, something about Rock and Roll?) Beth was the only one that Alison felt she could relate to.

Beth had a man who didn’t love her the way she needed, so she shut herself down. Beth had friends who had no idea about her pain, and couldn’t understand even if she wanted to explain it to them. No one knew what it was like. What it was like for them. What it was like to loathe yourself. To never feel good enough. To look at your life and wonder “How did it come to this?” and wonder where along the way you stopped feeling and lost yourself so completely.

Then one night, after-admittedly- too much wine, something happened. The words came tumbling out. The fear, the emptiness, all of it. It came tumbling out. Out of both of them.

They spoke about their relationships, their lives, their losses, and the darkness. Alison remembers sobbing at one point about how when she looked in the mirror, she just saw a shell. That she felt cold, and hollow and dead inside. That she was completely alone.

She remembers Beth grabbing her hand (it was so warm), squeezing it and telling her that she wasn’t hollow and that she wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

Looking back, Alison knows that was the moment. Beth’s eyes were both hard and soft. Letting her know that she was deadly serious and that she understood. Her eyes and the soft touch of Beth’s hand at that moment were so filled with promise. Promise of something- of intimacy, of understanding- and that was what rekindled the fire within her again. Made her start to really believe that maybe she wasn’t so alone after all.

It would be impossible to map exactly when or how things, progressed over those next months. When their intertwined fingers, and comforting hugs turned into more. When the hour at a time they would visit started to become two or three at a time, and when exactly that started to blend into all night.

She does remember their first kiss. A bottle or so each, gone, they were cuddled on the couch- Alison’s head on Beth’s shoulder. Beth had been talking about Paul, about relationships. She stated that she felt no one would ever love her. Beth said it so matter-of-fact, so flat and final and sad, that Alison couldn’t help it. She turned slightly, shifting and tipping her chin up until their lips met. It was soft and gentle and felt so right- so much more intimate than with Donnie or anyone else for that matter. Alison pulled back a fraction and there was a catch in Beth’s breath and for a pause, a terrifying moment, Alison thought that maybe she did something wrong.

Alison remembers the way her heart skipped a beat when that pause ended, Beth's lips meeting hers again. That kiss turned into many, and at some point Alison shifted and was straddling Beth’s lap, both of them hungrily devouring the other like they were water in a desert. Like were bringing each other back to life.

There were other nights after that, though they became more and more rare as their lives became more chaotic- your genetic identicals being killed off will do that, after all.

But it was those rare nights they were able to steal away together that made it all worthwhile. All the pretending and shutting out and shutting down she did during her normal life; All the meaningless trivialities- the book clubs and thank you cards and smiling because _that’s-just-what-you-did_ … All the dead-eyed, going through the motions was so much more bearable now, because she had Beth.

Those moments… when sweat and breath mingled and they were so close she could feel Beth’s heart beating against her. Those moments when Alison couldn’t tell where her skin ended and Beth’s began… those moments where they could look at each other, look each other in the eyes and know the other person was actually seeing them- _the real them_ \- those moments…

They were alive in those moments.

Sometimes they would talk after. Sometimes they would just lay there, holding each other. Either way, it was all Alison needed.

She worried though. She would worry about Beth- that she was taking on too much. With the assassin and the Europeans and the sickness and Maggie Chen, Paul, _everything_ \- she worried. Alison remembered how bright Beth’s eyes would be, shinning up at her in the darkness as Alison would stroke her brow and tell her it would be okay. In those moments, it seemed like Beth believed her. But sometime between then and the sun rising, Alison would notice the change back and by the next morning that clarity and understanding in Beth’s eyes would fade and that fog and distance would settle back in.

Intimacy. Understanding. A human connection. Love. That’s what Beth gave her. She gave meaning to her hollow life. A flame burning through in the darkness of her mind. The knowledge that she _wasn’t_ alone. That she was safe- that she could _be_ safe at all. Alison trusted Beth completely. Trusted Beth with that darkness inside her, because Beth had it too. Alison let go of all the control she had fought so hard for because for the first time in her life she knew if she let go, there was someone to catch her.

And then, without warning, Beth was gone. Her light, Alison’s light, snuffed suddenly and Alison was alone again. Alone with the darkness. Only this time, the contrast seems so much greater.

Since Beth's death,Alison doesn’t trust anyone anymore, especially herself. She's constantly wringing her hands, touching her face. She's wound tight enough to snap and knows she’s losing it- losing everything. Without her light, without Beth, Alison can’t keep the rest of her life together and the darkness inside is threatening to swallow her whole again.

She’s losing it. She’s reckless and self-destructive. Sex with Chad. Hot glue gunning Donne. Passing out drunk at her own party. Ainsely’s death. The play. The pills. Rehab. The kids. The Dyad. It’s consuming her and if she doesn’t tamp it all down again- all her feelings and thoughts and worries, the darkness- all of HER- then she going to completely unravel.

So she locks all of it up and throws away the key. There can be no more intimacy- no more sharing. She can’t let go of her control. Not now and not ever again. No matter how much she wants to. No matter how much she’s grown to trust this group. No matter how much they seem trustworthy. No matter how much they seem safe.

Alison doesn’t tell them about the drinking and pills. Not that it matters- her "helpers" barely do anything for the darkness anymore. She doesn’t tell them about killing Ainsley (except for Felix and that just slipped out) or about Dr. Leekie, dead, in her garage. She doesn’t bother them with her relationship ups and downs with Donnie, about how her kids are doing, or how after the play, and rehab that she’s more convinced than ever how worthless she is. How she understands now, that she's nothing but a footnote, or worse a nuisance. She doesn't tell them how late at night, alone in her craft room, after all the tears have dried, how she thinks that maybe Beth had the right idea.

No, she doesn't bother the others with this.  Doesn’t bother them with the trivial and the trite and keeps them all at a distance. She keeps them at arms-length. It’s better this way. It’s easier for them not to be burdened by her and makes it easier for her to focus her energy on keeping moving, keeping busy, and holding the last fragments of her world together. As much as she wants to reach out, to embrace her new family literally and otherwise, she won’t.

So she doesn’t hug Helena when she meets her finally. And she doesn’t hold Cosima’s hand when she coughing next to her. And she doesn’t go anywhere _near_ Sarah.

 _Sarah_. Sarah- who’s been through so much, but keeps all that pain inside, pushed way, way down. Sarah- who keeps putting her life on the line, risking herself over and over for all of them, to keep them safe. Sarah- who’s eyes have that mischievous twinkle in them when she smiles... like she’s always a moment away from being up to no good.

No. No, Alison keeps _a lot_ of space between her and Sarah because she sees too much of Beth there.

She sees too much of Beth in all of them. But _especially_ Sarah.

And that's why she leaves. Because Sarah isn't Beth. Neither is Cosima, or Helena, or any of the other... _clones_. To her, they'd be just that- a copy. A fragmented replacement for what she'd lost.

So she'll go home to Donnie, and her kids and try to live with that. She'll keep her life moving, keep herself moving and she'll hold it all together. Because she has to, if she wants to survive.

 

 

*_*_*_*_*  


End file.
